Author's Note: Icarus tried to escape his prison by flying away with
wings made of feathers and wax.  But he flew too high to the sun, and
the wings melted...

I started wondering what it would have been like if Scully had never
joined the FBI, but my firm belief in fate led me to think about how
all these funny things would have turned out if Mulder and Scully were
not partners, but a couple.  I took liberties with the timeline, wanting
to cover those episodes with the most romantic tension, but not wanting
to be constrained by what was supposed to happen when.

Kudos to Tinka and Audrey for beta services.  Go baby.

***

Mulder had taken to sleeping on Scully's couch instead of his own.  He
couldn't bear the emptiness of his apartment, the absence of her
clothing and her scent, so he had gradually transferred himself to her
place.

Except that she had been gone for so long that her smell was fading.

Duane Barry was dead.  Some nameless agent had killed him - a clean
cut, yuppie looking kid whom Mulder had been unable to track down.
And all he knew was that Barry had taken Scully to Skyland Mountain.
And now she was gone.

He had gotten to the point where he no longer expected her to come
walking in the door any moment.  It was like those weeks after
Samantha had disappeared.  Hope was fading - but it would never die
out completely.  And he would be trapped in limbo for the rest of his
life, craving two women, wondering and waiting for them, with no real
hope of ever seeing them again.

He was dozing fitfully on the overstuffed sofa.  It and her bed were
the places that still smelled a little like her, and he couldn't bear
sleeping in her bed for the memories that it aroused.  He wondered,
idly, where it was that she had made love to the mysterious Krycek.
Was it here?  In the bedroom?  Across the kitchen table?  God, to see
her again, even with another man...

There was a metallic noise outside the apartment.

Mulder stood up slowly, palming his gun, as the keys jangling in the
hallway found their way into Scully's lock and the door started to
open.  "Freeze," he said sharply to the tall man who appeared in the
doorway.

The man stood stock-still and slowly raised his hands above his head.

"Who the hell are you?"  Mulder snarled.

"I'm Bill Mulder," the man said.  "Dana Scully's brother."

Mulder lowered his gun.  The beginnings of abject humiliation boiled
up in his chest.  "Sorry."

"Sorry," Bill Scully Jr. exploded, stepping in and slamming the door
shut behind him.  "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my
sister's apartment?"

"I'm Fox Mulder," Mulder said sheepishly, tucking his gun away.  "This
was a mistake.  I didn't mean to..."

"What are you doing here?" Bill Jr. repeated, shucking off his jacket
and flinging it onto a chair, in a state of high agitation.

"Your sister and I are friends," Mulder said, thinking desperately on
how to explain his presence to Scully's overprotective brother.  He
remembered things she had told him about Bill Jr....*He tends to act
without thinking, especially concerning Missy and I...he never did
like any of our boyfriends...we'll have to introduce you two in a
carefully controlled environment...*

"Good friends?" Bill Jr. said suspiciously, the light dawning in his
eyes.

"Um, yes.  We were dating."

Scully's brother exploded again.  "Dating!  Damn it, why didn't she
tell me?"

"We haven't been together for very long," Mulder protested.

"And what the hell are you doing here?  You do know that Dana is
missing, don't you?"

"Yes," Mulder said.  "I'm with the FBI.  I know all about your
sister's abduction."

Bill Jr. sized him up shrewdly.  "Are you part of the investigation?"

"Unofficially.  I can tell you that everything possible is being done
to find her."  *Not that she will be found...in some spaceship, being
subjected to God-knows-what tests...*

"I'm here to clean out Dana's refrigerator," Bill Jr. muttered.
"She's not going to like coming home to a house full of rotten food."

Mulder wished he had Bill Jr.'s confidence.  *She won't like coming
back...coming back...coming back...*

The telephone rang.  To Bill Jr.'s horror, Mulder strode right over
and picked it up.  "Hello," he said.

"Fox," Melissa Scully said.  "Aren't you going home?"

"Hi, Missy," Mulder said, catching Bill Jr.'s eye.  "Your brother Bill
is here."

"Oh."  Missy was quiet for a moment.  "Is he mad?"

"I would say so.  Do you want to talk to him?"

"Sure."

While Missy and Bill were on the phone, Mulder quietly slipped out of
Scully's apartment.  Bill Jr. watched him go with a kind of malevolent
fascination.  "Who the hell is this guy, Missy?  And why didn't Dana
tell me she was seeing someone?"

***

Scully became aware of a rolling motion.  Like the waves on a calm
lake.  She opened her eyes - if she had eyes - and found herself in a
boat, tethered to the shore.  She couldn't remember how she got there.

Hm...there was someone speaking to her.  A Nurse Owens.  Scully
listened to the voice, feeling Nurse Owens pull her boat closer to the
dock.  She wasn't sure she wanted to go.  It was so peaceful out here,
and she missed her father's voice...but where was her mother, her
father,
and her brothers and sister, and Mulder...

***

Mulder came to with a massive crick in his neck.  Opening his eyes, he
saw Scully's hospital room and the events of the last few days came
rushing back to him.  She was alive, she was here, but they were
disconnecting her soon, and she was so pale and cold...

"Would you like something to drink, Mr. Mulder?"  Margaret Scully
asked softly, and Mulder turned to see her sitting nearby.  He had
been sleeping with his head on Scully's thigh, which explained the
pain in his neck.  He wondered how long Margaret had been there.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Scully," he said, stretching.  "Any changes?"

Margaret shook her head.  "We'll be turning off the machines tonight."

Mulder stared at Scully's still body dully.

"She spoke to me about you," Margaret ventured.

Mulder grimaced.  *Here it comes.*

"She thinks very highly of you, Mr. Mulder.  Do you know that?"

"Yes," he whispered.  "We were...close."

"She told me," Mrs. Scully said.  "You don't have to be embarrassed."

His cheeks flushed.  "Mrs. Scully...I want you to know that I was
planning on asking Dana to marry me."

"Oh," she whispered.  "I'm so sorry."

"I didn't...I wasn't taking advantage of her."

"I know, Mr. Mulder.  I know. Any fool could see it."

***

The light was so bright and harsh.  Scully squinted, suddenly wishing
that she hadn't let Nurse Owens' voice lull her back here.  Where was
her father?  Where was her mother and Mulder?

She looked around and found her family staring at her, each looking
apprehensive but somehow joyful.  She smiled at them, mystified, and
dropped back to sleep...

"Scully," said a dear voice.

Scully smiled, not opening her eyes.  "Mulder," she murmured.

"Shh, don't try to talk," Mulder said, and she felt him take her hand.
"You're going to be fine, Scully.  Everything's going to be just
fine."

"I know," she said, licking her lips.  "You're here."

She hurt all over, but that was okay, because he was holding her hand
and she could see her parents and her brother and sister smiling at her.
"Where am I?"

"The hospital.  You've been sick."

That explained a lot.

***

The next time Scully had Mulder to herself was six days later.  That
was when her parents finally went home.  Over the course of that week,
Scully had found out more than she ever wanted to know about how much
Bill had learned from their father about being a sailor.

Bill loathed Mulder.  After he found out that Duane Barry had followed
Mulder to Scully's apartment, there was no peace for the poor man.
Missy and Margaret entreated him over and over to stop badgering
Mulder; Dana actually shouted at him that there was no way Mulder
could have known what Duane Barry was capable of.  And then there was
the alien thing.

Scully didn't know what had happened to her.  She didn't want to know,
frankly.  It was all so confusing and frightening.  She didn't want to
look at her face in the mirror so that she could ignore the bruises;
she didn't want to examine the mysterious stretch marks creeping up
the sides of her belly.  And she didn't want to hear Bill rant about
Mulder's stupid theories.

For she had a dreadful suspicion that Mulder was right.

"I thought she'd never leave," a smiling Scully said when Mulder
closed the door behind her mother.

"Scully," he admonished.  "She's your mother."

"I know that.  And how am I supposed to neck with you when my mother
is around?"

She was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a quilt and wearing pajamas
that were entirely too constricting.

"Scully," Mulder said, this time wearily.

His voice alerted her to his mood.  "Mulder?"  She said gently.  "Is
everything all right?"

Mulder sat down on the armchair and stared at the floor.  "Your
brother is right, Scully."

She looked at him blankly.  "Right?"

"This is my fault."

"Oh, Mulder," Scully started to get up, but he put up a hand.

"Don't get up, Scully. I'm going to be leaving soon."

"Leaving."

"Scully, I can't do this.  I've stayed around this week because I
wanted to make sure you'd be okay.  But I'm going home now."

A feeling of dread and panic was welling up in Scully's chest.  She
swallowed convulsively.

"Scully, as long as you're around me, you're going to be in danger.
The only reason that I still have a job is because my father has some
powerful friends and I've made a few powerful friends myself.  But that
won't keep forever.  I had an informant who was brutally murdered a
while ago.  All because of his contact with me."

"But Mulder..."

"And though you know that I love you...I'll always love you, Scully,
please believe that...I can't put you in danger ever again."

"Fuck you," she hissed.

Clearly, this was not the reaction that Mulder had been expecting.  He
eyed her quizzically.

"Do you think that I give a damn what you do for a living?  How
dangerous your life is?  Do you think I *wanted* to fall in love with
you?  My God, Mulder, how dense can you be?"

"Scully, please listen -"

"No, *you* listen," she said, throwing the quilt aside and jumping to
her feet.  "How can you assume responsibility for my safety like that?
Do you think I'm some kind of china doll that will break if you
breathe on it wrong?  I am not Diana Fowley, who takes off when things
get rough.  I am a sailor's daughter, you bastard, and like it or not,
you are stuck with me."

"You're still weak, Scully," Mulder said, sounding rather weak
himself.  "You should lie back down -"

"I should kick your ass right out that window," she spat.  "I seem to
recall a conversation that occurred in the heat of the moment, Mulder,
about running away.  And I believe we both indicated that it *would
not happen.*  You said that if I tried to leave, you'd come after me.
And that goes for you, too, you sorry son of a bitch.  Now, get out of
my apartment."

She pointed towards the door as she said this, and Mulder stared at
her with something akin to horror.

"I don't want to see you again until you've come to your senses,
Mulder.  Out!"

Looking over his shoulder helplessly, he left her apartment.  And as
he closed the door, he heard her throw something that shattered
loudly.

***

It was another week later that Scully showed up at his apartment.  He
had foolishly hoped that she would have seen the logic in his
argument, but he knew it was her before he opened the door.

"Scully," he began, looking down at her.

"Shut up," she snapped, elbowing her way into his apartment.  "This
place is a mess," she said scornfully.  "Don't you ever do your
dishes?  I could cure the measles with some of the stuff growing in
here."

"You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you.  You should be at my place, in my bed.  What do
you have to say for yourself?"

"I've been working on a case.  A man who can push his will onto other
people.  He's taken a special liking to me so I've been working night
and day to work up a profile -"

"And you haven't had time to come see me.  Way wrong answer."  Scully
shed her blazer quickly.  "I was at death's door not two weeks ago,
Mulder.  You might as well tell me the truth."

"You can't be here, Scully," he said, looking furtively around.

"Why the hell not?"  She was working on her blouse.

"Scully!"  Desperate, Mulder pulled her close and, under the guise of
whispering sweet nothings, muttered into her ear, "This place is
bugged."

Scully accepted this information with considerable aplomb.  "Well,
then," she said, taking advantage of his close proximity to run her
hands down his back and over his ass, "You'll just have to come home
with me.  Because I won't stand for this.  You're mine, Mulder, and
nothing you say is going to change that."

"Oh, God," he groaned, burying one hand in her hair and hugging her
close with the other.  "I've missed you so much, Scully...you can't
imagine..."

"Come back with me," she pleaded, "Or forget the cameras.  I can't be
without you any longer.  I nearly died this week."

"You nearly died, period.  Don't you understand that you're in danger
every second that you're around me?"

"So?  A bomb could drop on us any moment.  I could have an aneurysm.
For heaven's sake, Mulder, aliens could land on the roof of this
building and that would be it.  I don't care.  Don't you see?  *I
don't care.*"

"But I do, Scully," he said forcefully, pushing her back and giving
her a hard shake.  "I'm not being altruistic here.  If you died, I
would die.  If you live, I live.  Even if I can never touch you
again."

"That would be like living half dead, Mulder," she threw back at him.
"Mulder.  Can't you see that I'm begging you here?  Do you want me to
get on my knees?"

Despite the urgency of the situation, the image was too much for
Mulder.  He closed his eyes and turned his head away.

"Oh," she said slyly.  "Is that what it takes to change your mind?"
And she sank gracefully to the floor, her hands going to the fly of
his pants.

"No, Scully -"  He took her hands in his so that she couldn't touch
him.

"Let them watch," she said in such a low voice that only he could
hear.  "You don't have the heart to stop me, Mulder.  I have no pride
here.  Either I fuck you here or I fuck you at my place."

She knew him so well.  She knew that there was no way he would
embarrass her by letting her do anything to him with cameras watching.
That was what she'd been banking on, so Mulder, with anxiety and
desire riding on him hard, pushed her away and went to grab a jacket.

to be continued...